


Everything Good

by only_one_word



Series: Feel good 4 [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, M/M, Mates, POV Stiles, Pining Derek, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott McCall is a Good Friend, Werewolf Courting, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:31:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1916355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_one_word/pseuds/only_one_word
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Derek feeds Stiles and one time he doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Good

**Author's Note:**

> Mentions of previous canon typical violence. 
> 
> This is me pretending that there is absolutely nothing suspicious going on, and that Derek Hale is really magically okay.

1\. Dinner

Stiles unlocked the door to the front of his house, flipping on lights as he walked past the kitchen to-

holy shit Derek Hale was in his kitchen.

"Derek?" Stiles probably should have been more embarrassed that he squeaked like that. "What happened?" Derek looked fine- more than fine he looked just like he was as perfectly fine as he was before the fight with his werewolf superhealing and sitting in his kitchen under no threat of death. Typically, that's all Stiles would have needed to make sure a person was fine but considering the possession. . .

Well Derek had been de aged to before he had learned about he fire. Obviously, if he wasn't fine it would probably be caused by that.

Derek half stood up in reaction Stiles' panicking. "What? No, everything's-" he looked so very awkward, standing there in Stiles kitchen, that Stiles couldn't have imagined it before. His eyes slipped to the table before noticing the glass on it, feeling his mouth twist down at the corners before he could look away.

"You sure?"

Derek looked embarrassed. "I should be asking you that. You went to Mexico to find me."

Stiles scoffed.

"For all the good that did us."

"No, it was- thank you. For coming to get me. You didn't have to." Derek seemed to know that Stiles was going to object to that, because he just kept talking.  
"I wanted to invite you and Scott to dinner, for your pack, on me."

There was a moment of stunned silence, while Stiles' eyebrows tried to climb to the top of his forehead.

"You- really? Really?"

This was so far from the life or death scenario that had started to play in his head when he first saw Derek in there. The adrenaline still pumping through him felt out of place and the decision seem more important than it was. Or maybe it was that important?

Derek looked intent, as usual, where parts of his expression stayed stiffly pinched up and he seemed torn between staying standing and sitting again. So Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, man, if you want to feed a bunch of people, I'm not going to turn you down. Did you talk to Scott?"

Derek looked out the window like he expected Scott to leap through it.

"I though you could ask him for me. . . we're still not." He cleared his throat like he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"S'fine," Stiles waved a hand. "I'll tell you what he says."

He felt the itching need to say something further, he didn't know what, and "be safe" sounded weird to him when he wasn't directing it to his dad. It wasn't like any of them could really control that either, and they all knew that they couldn't really promise something like that. Not with the supernatural involved.  
Derek left.

-

Scott took less convincing than Stiles thought he would need, and six of them- Melissa, Stiles, Kira, Malia, Lydia, and of course Scott sat with Derek in one of the few places to eat in the area that was both open and didn't attract attention per Lydia's request. (The request didn't go quite like that though.) Stiles ended up stuck in between Malia and Lydia, thankfully with Scott and Derek across from him and Kira cheerfully chatting just to the side of Scott, closets to the wall. Melissa observed them all, half perched in the middle of the walkway between tables.

Stiles was stuck on Malia duty, unsurprisingly, but at least he could still have a decent conversation with Lydia that didn't have them both frustrated with translating the bestiary, and/or whatever thing they were dealing with at the time. Melissa seemed perfectly happy to watch over the group from her end of the table while talking with Scott and a few times even with Derek.

The waitress seemed curious about the odd group, but thankfully didn't comment and no one (Stiles) had to come up with some sort of convincing lie. She took their orders, and then Kira went back to showing Malia the pictures on her phone, and Scott continued having a quieter conversation with Derek that Stiles tried in no way to eavesdrop on, and Lydia went back to looking at the menu like it had personally offended her.

"You said "low profile" and this is as low profile as we could get without leaving Beacon Hills. I don't think my dad would've appreciated that."

"I wouldn't either, Stiles." Melissa leaned across slightly to lower her voice. "Mexico? Really?"

Stiles winced. They hadn't taken Mexico very well. "It was for a good cause?"

"You even knew it was a terrible plan to start with!" Melissa was getting _really good_ at hissed whispers. Lydia suspiciously went without comment. Traitor- how else were they supposed to get information? It worked out in the end. Derek coughed, and most of the table looked in his direction, excluding Malia, who was busy with the straw wrappers that Kira had shown her how to fold.

"For what it's worth, I appreciated it."

Melissa's eyes softened up, but Stiles couldn't see it because Derek looked so apologetic like- it wasn't his fault.

At all.

It was Kate's, and that was the end of it, but Derek didn't seem to realize that, if Stiles was reading his expression right. That was probably worse than seeing Derek- like he was. Before whatever happened that fixed him and changed his eye color.

Stiles jerked his gaze when he felt Scott kick him under the table. He was looking at him like he was going to ask a question, but then seemed to decide it didn't matter and shrugged. Stiles rolled his eyes and the meal passed, with only a few slip ups from Malia that only got one glare from the parents behind them.  
Stiles counted it as a win.

-

When, two weeks later a very late birthday cake arrived at his house, Stiles didn't even question it. He just ate it hoping that his dad wouldn't notice, because curly fries was one thing but excessive sugar was another. His dad didn't mention it, though Stiles might have caught his dad looking at the box in the recycle with confusion a few times.

-

Stiles still didn't ask when he was sitting in the loft, a few Werewolves scattered around him and thankfully lacking Peter, when Derek offered to share some of his fries leftover from the take out that Stiles probably wouldn't have been able to eat in front of his father without sharing. He was wound up tight like a spring and trying to gain as much information on mercenaries and kill lists as possible so that they could maybe find a loop hole and not die.

He was doubting it, with Allison hanging over everything like a cloud, the guilt sticking to him like a second skin now. It would have been better to be an unbeatable demon now, when he was up against stuff that seemed to make the torture just another thing left to worry about. He shook himself when he realized that his eyes had misted over and shoved the fries in his face with a mumbled "thank you."

Lydia looked scandalized. "You shouldn't talk with food in your mouth."

Stiles almost did something immature, like open his mouth wider, but instead her just tossed the pages he had printed out earlier across the table to her and shrugged. For a moment he could have sworn that Derek was laughing beside him.

Lydia waved a hand dismissively, flipping her braid over her shoulder and paging through, more than likely picking out all his mistakes that he missed.

Suddenly it didn't feel so much like they were over their heads, even though he knew that it was true regardless.

-

"Is that fried?" Stiles glared as his father hid his plate from him.

"No, it's perfectly acceptable grilled meat, now leave me alone. I can barely eat hamburgers anymore, I get to enjoy this."

Stiles scoffed but poked his head out to see where he got it, and surprisingly, found Derek and Scott at the grill.

"What? When did this happen?"

Scott grinned. "I sent you a text, but I guess you didn't check your phone. Glad you're here." He meant _glad you weren't kidnapped or murdered or became murderous_ but Stiles didn't call him out on it.

"What is here? Since when do you two cook food on the grill together? What's the occasion?"

Stiles jumped when his dad clapped a hand on his back. "Got a case solved, a real one, without any supernatural business of yours involved. Melissa agreed it would be a good time to celebrate."

She seemed happy, it was the first time he had seen her off of work at that time of day in awhile. It was probably the first home cooked meal she had too, because Stiles knew that Scott couldn't always be helping her or cooking for her but take out was so much easier than making something for herself when she pulled a late shift.

Derek pressed a plate into his hands and his eyes were doing the crinkle-thing that made him seem like he was suppressing a smile.

"Scott decided that I should be eating with other people."

"Scott huh?" Stiles grinned over at his best friend who seemed pleased with himself. Stiles didn't know why, but whatever made Scott happy. Not that Stiles minded that him and Derek were at least attempting to coexist in a more friendly way so that things were easier on them. The constant fighting with each other didn't help them fighting for their lives, so Stiles was hopeful that things would be less worse than they could be from now on.

Stiles tore into the food, bumping shoulders with Scott and trying to steal his piece of foil wrapped potato and letting out a shout when it burnt his fingers while everyone else tried not to laugh. Then Melissa dropped her soda on the ground; surprised cursing followed while the purple stained her clothes.

-

By now Stiles was catching on to how often food and Derek were involved. They were still trying to figure out how to not get killed by the Berserkers without Derek nearly killing himself with little luck. No one wanted to be in a room with Peter still, Malia had suddenly left Stiles to fend for himself while she tagged on to Kira- and that was something that Stiles didn't want to know anything about, especially if it involved his best friend- and Lydia and him were getting as much progress on the vital information front as always.

So even though he was confused as to why Derek was suddenly the one to be giving him food all the time, he didn't question it and just a loud noise of appreciation when he bit into the donut at three AM on a Friday night. Derek gave him an odd look but Stiles just gave him a thumbs up mumbling something about *not being able to survive without food* and *greatest meal of the day* in between going back to what lead he had managed to find.

-

They were exhausted after the final fight that seemed to mean that they were in the clear. Stiles was sure he was still be worried and still fueled to keep going, but he was just glad for the illusion of safety for now. He stared up at the loft ceiling while trying to sort out the mess his brain had become, when he was struck by a random thought that wasn't so random.

"Hey, so what's with the food thing Derek?"

Derek froze in Stiles' peripheral vision. His expression practically said guilty guilty guilty all over it.

"What?"

"You know," Stiles waved his hand in an abstract gesture between them. "The food thing. You've been giving me food a lot. Is it a back thing? Saving-your-life thing? Because dude, I think we've saved each other's enough to make it even." Stiles felt slightly uncomfortable, wondering if he was missing the point or reaching.

"I might be totally off but-"

"It's not a pack thing."

Stiles sat up, lightheaded and dizzy from the speed that he jerked to his elbows. That was probably also caused by the day they just had.

"Huh?"

Derek was sitting down on the couch, Kira's head resting on him with Malia and Scott wrapped up around her in a strange interpretation of a- Stiles really didn't want to know.

"It's not a pack thing, Stiles." Derek rolled his eyes, even though he seemed uncomfortable. "It's just a y- me thing. Don't worry about it."

Stiles squinted. That didn't make any sense. He wasn't any-

Stiles suddenly remembered a dozen separate conversations, one of them his dad mentioning that if he was dating Derek Hale he should really be coming over for dinner and _oh_.

"Oh. So. Is that a wooing thing? Courting?"

Stiles had never seen someone go red to their ears in his life, at least not like Derek. He felt bad for taking so long to notice, when he got over the swooping feeling in his stomach just from the idea alone.

"It's fine if you-" Derek probably would have run if Kira wasn't literally on him, sleeping.

"Hey, no, feel free to do the wooing you want now that I know what you're doing."

Derek froze, and Stiles froze in response. God what was he saying, Derek probably- there was no way.

"Really?" He said softer, like he couldn't act believe what Stiles had just said.

"Have you met you? Yes, there's no way- in fact no take backs, the wooing will totally be a thing now right?"

Derek gave a soft little grin and Stiles felt his heart thudding in his chest. "Right."

He couldn't believe Scott missed this, he was right there, but Stiles scrabbled over to sit on the couch directly beside Derek's, daring to grab his hand after asking permission. He felt warmer as he intertwined their fingers, and went to sleep right there on the couch.

But not before taking the orange off the table- Scott and Kira had insisted, because it wasn't impossible for Derek to get scurvy- and putting it into Derek's other hand. Derek's real smile was blinding.


End file.
